


Tall Tails

by datafailure



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cardassian Anatomy, Cardassian Culture, Childhood Trauma, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Garak says fuck, Implied Sexual Content, Jadzia already knows what the fuck is going on, Light Angst, M/M, and has a tail, nothing graphic tho lmao, that's it that's the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datafailure/pseuds/datafailure
Summary: When Julian accidentally finds out one of Garak's most hidden secrets, how will it affect their relationship?
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 33
Kudos: 83





	1. The Wardrobe Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> An ordinary lunch date between Julian and Garak goes awry.

“That’s simply preposterous!”

It was another day in the replimat, and everyone who sat at the surrounding tables was well used to the passionate arguments between the station’s CMO and the Cardassian tailor. This was a bi-weekly occurrence, and those who disapproved had long since learned to schedule their meals for a different time. 

Garak was seated at his usual chair, opposite Julian, sipping a cup of tea and listening to the doctor’s impassioned rant about the latest novel they had decided to discuss. A light flush covered his face and ears, and his voice was beginning to get a little too loud for the cramped space. Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care, and Garak was quite caught up in it himself, despite his usual serene smile. It was always a pleasure to see Julian caught up in a crass review of some classic Kardassi literature, even if his actual opinions were, to put it in the words of the doctor, “complete horse shit”. He knew a little of Earth colloquialisms, but did not understand how telling falsities was equivalent to animal excrement.

Julian, on the other hand, just loved spending time with Garak. Despite his feelings about a lot of the literature that the tailor would consider iconic and faultless, he studiously read every word of every book that Garak would loan him, sometimes even twice, and then would spend evenings thinking about things from the book to argue with him about. He was faintly aware of the Cardassian connotations of such arguments, after Miles’ awkward encounter with a flirtatious Cardassian engineer, but thought nothing of it. He had his dreams, of course, his private fantasies of a life with Garak, but that was all they were. Garak did not see him in that way, and their meetings were strictly platonic.

This didn’t stop Julian from dreaming, though - he enjoyed annoying Garak, egging him on until he got some kind of reaction. Sometimes he would claim to have hated a book that he really enjoyed, just to create some argument. There were no quiet moments though, no peace or real closeness, and that was what Julian craved more than anything. To be able to touch him, to feel the ridged face that darkened almost unnoticeably when they greeted each other. What did the Cardassian’s hands feel like? Were they calloused and cracked from years on the cold station?

Julian resigned himself to never knowing, and his dreams were filled with half-accurate versions of Garak. Garak laughing as they walked hand in hand along the Promenade, Garak’s piercing blue eyes gentle and loving as they gazed at Julian, Garak’s head thrown back, hair mussed and neck bruised as--

“Doctor?”

_Fuck._

“Doctor, are you listening to me?”

_Do I have a - oh, thank the Prophets no._

Julian blinked and the world came back into focus. The bustling Replimat reminded him of the one at Starfleet Academy, a school canteen with whispers of who-likes-who and who-said-what. The pair often got stares from Bajoran passersby, who, having lived through the Occupation, knew _exactly_ what was going on between them, but Julian and Garak alike were painfully unaware of the other’s feelings.

The doctor decided to _really_ piss real-Garak off for interrupting his lovely dream.

“Sorry, I was half asleep. All this talk of serving the state is rather repetitive, wouldn’t you say?”

Garak’s eyes darkened. His ridged brow furrowed, and with one swift movement he slammed the palms of his hands onto the small table and rose.

“How dare-”

_Rrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiip._

From the absolutely horrified look on Garak’s face to the sudden silence in the Replimat, it was fairly obvious what had just happened.

Garak’s trousers had ripped.

A realisation seemed to come across the tailor and, without saying a word, he turned and fled.

Julian confusedly watched him leave, when he noticed something.

There, protruding from the unfortunate rip in the tailor’s trousers, was a stubby, charcoal-scaled tail.

People stared and murmured, but Julian gave them all a death glare and they quickly went back to their food.

  
_What the fuck just happened?_ Julian thought, as he sipped his tea.


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian struggles to focus on his work. Jadzia helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's already been so supportive of this story!

Julian sat awkwardly by himself in the Replimat. A few minutes had passed since Garak’s grand exit, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened. His thoughts were focused around two things. Thought one: _He's never looked at me like that before_. Thought two: _Garak has a tail, what the fuck._

The latter point continued to cross his mind later, after an equally awkward exit from the Replimat, sidling between tables with murmurs of “excuse me” and “coming through” when everyone was obviously talking about what had just happened. God, he felt like he was on some 21st-century reality TV show (one of his guilty viewing pleasures - it seemed so strange how people used to live so differently, and yet drew so many parallels with modern society). The whole station would know about it by the end of the day, he was sure. Gossip spread fast, even among the vedeks at the Bajoran shrine. 

He slumped in his office chair back in the infirmary and sighed loudly. One of the nurses must have heard him, as she peeked surreptitiously through the glass screen to see what he was doing, before turning her head and whispering to another. Julian rolled his eyes and tried to return to reading the latest medical journal, but without much luck. His mind kept replaying the events from earlier like a broken holoprogram.

“What should I do?” he groaned quietly to himself.

“You could start by helping me out,” a familiar voice rang from the door to the infirmary.

He lifted his head to see none other than Jadzia Dax standing in the doorway to his office, a knowing grin on her face.

“Boy troubles?”

“You have no idea.”

She walked to stand behind his office chair and leaned over the headrest, ruffling his hair like a parent would their child. He _really_ wished she wouldn’t do that.

“You forget I’ve lived 7 more lives than you. I think I have some idea.” Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down to sit beside her. “The nurses won’t see us down here, I heard them whispering about you.”

Julian smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Now, young Mr Bashir, what seems to be the problem?” Her inflection mocked a jovial old man, making Julian giggle.

“I don’t know if it’s something I can tell you, really,” he said pensively. “It seemed very… personal to him.”

“Oh, you mean him up and leaving in the middle of your lunch date because you insulted Cardassia? Nice one, Julian - everyone knows already.”

_Oh, thank fuck, nobody saw the tail._

_Did I make it up?_

_No, couldn’t have._

He trusted her, anyway, and so he let his thoughts run amok.

“It’s… not about that- I always make comments like that, and I think he knows I'm not seriously insulting his people- it was something else. I’m afraid I may have humiliated him somehow, but I don’t know how. It’s not like he’s ever spoken about it before, and it was a complete accident, and I don’t know how to fix it, what if he hates me or doesn’t want to see me anymore? But also when he LOOKED at me Jadzia, I just didn’t know what to do! I was completely frozen and he looked so angry and-”

Jadzia silenced him with a loud “shhhh” and pointed at the nurses peering through the window at the pair of them sat on the floor together. Julian's face went red. The second major embarrassment of the day.

"Now," she said, quieter now, not that that mattered because the nurses had heard everything prior, "tell me what _really_ happened."

Julian swallowed.

"Garak has a.." he whispered, "he has a tail."

Jadzia looked slightly put out.

"Are you drinking on the job?"

"No, I'm being serious! He has a tail, I saw it. In the Replimat, his- his trousers ripped."

Jadzia snorted.

"Well, that's probably why he's fucking embarrassed, isn't it? Bunch of strangers seeing his ass in public?"

"I suppose I didn't think about it in that way. I don't know why he hid it for so long, it's kind of... cute?"

At this, Jadzia threw her head back and the quiet snort turned into a brash, almost roaring laugh, and Julian understood why she fit in so well with her Klingon friends.

"Don't make fun of him!" Julian said.

She kept on laughing. "I'm not, it's just so funny the way you talk about him sometimes-" she wiped her eyes, laughter dying down- "like he's some cuddly pet and not a dangerous assassin."

" _Ex_ -assassin," Julian reminded her shortly. "He doesn't do those things anymore."

"You'd be surprised, the amount of things you can hide from someone. Especially when they've been lying their whole life."

"Even a tail?"

Even a tail." And so the conversation turned back to the matter at hand.

"I mean shit, Jadzia, what am I meant to do? He obviously wanted it to be a secret, and I went and ruined that, didn't I?" Julian sighed, resting his chin on his open palm.

“Why don’t you go to his quarters after your shift ends with an apology gift? Then maybe you can find out more about whatever happened.” She grinned deviously. “Maybe a good vintage of kanar?”

“Jadzia, if you are trying to set me up to shag him then I swear to God..”

Jadzia’s smile grew wider as she tapped nonchalantly behind her ear. “What’s that? Translator didn’t pick that up, sorry, must be broken.. I’ll have to go ask Miles about it. Bye!”

As she walked through the door, waving, Julian remembered that she had actually come in asking for help herself, and she had ended up helping him. He would have to repay her later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this book has.. specific points where it's good then just devolves into shite. Sorry for the inconsistent writing quality.  
> What do you think will come of Jadzia's plan? (This story is set post-Wire and pre-Tain dying so she's safe lol)


	3. The Journey Through Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jadzia's plan does not go as... well, as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sick right now so haven't really edited this too much, sorry if it's shite

A bit of weight off his chest, Julian managed to get through the last hours of his shift. Eventually it was 1900 hours and he handed the infirmary over to Nurse Jabara before heading to Quark’s.

The bar was busy, busier than the Replimat had been that afternoon, and filled with people laughing and making conversation, Ferengi waiters rushing to get everyone their drinks on time, and dabo girls in outfits that could  _ not  _ be comfortable to work in. Morn was sat by the bar as usual, and Quark was behind the bar, scanning the double-height ceiling for any small rodents or insects that could be Odo in disguise. He jumped when Julian approached.

“What do you want?”

“That’s not a very polite way to address one of your customers. I’m looking to make a purchase.” 

Quark’s disposition immediately changed. “Ah, of course, and what is it you’re looking to buy, dear Doctor?”

Julian didn’t like that.

Only Garak was allowed to call him that.

Stiffly, he responded, “I would like to buy a bottle of kanar. A good vintage, but nothing too extravagant.”

Quark raised a hairless brow. “Oh, moving things forward with Mr Cardassian are we? About time.”

That was it. Julian had had it.

He exploded.

“Why the fuck does everyone on this bloody station think we’re going to have sex?”

The raucous laughter died down.

Silence, again.

_ Is this what dying feels like? _ he wondered, as he felt the gaze of a hundred eyes burn into the back of his head. Quark only stood there smirking.

“Just sell me the fucking booze, Quark!” Julian whispered aggressively. His ears were burning.

The smug Ferengi dipped his head into the stock room and shouted for kanar. He brought the bottle back with a PADD, which Julian hurriedly pressed his thumb onto before snatching the bottle of kanar and leaving wordlessly. The eyes followed him out for the second time that day, and it took all his strength not to scream.

After his escape, Julian speedwalked to the nearest turbolift. Today had been a complete and utter nightmare, and even now he was unsure that Jadzia’s advice would help.

_ I mean, going to his quarters? Isn’t that way too forward? Should I be doing this? I feel like I’m intruding, I mean he was really angry earlier.. _

“Habitat Ring, level H-3.”

_ What was I even thinking making him angry like that? He was probably completely embarrassed by my even being there, I’m such an idiot. How could I ever think someone like me could be good enough to keep his company? _

He was shaken from his thoughts by the turbolift shuddering to a halt. The door wouldn’t open. Great.

He tapped his combadge. “Bashir to Engineering, come in.”

“O’Brien here, what’s happened?”

“Turbolift is jammed. Help.”

“On my way.”

Julian felt like he was about to break down worse than the turbolift.

After what seemed like an eternity, but what his enhanced brain unhelpfully supplied had been 6 minutes and 37 seconds, he heard a bang on the door of the turbolift.

“Miles? Is that you?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure is. We’ll have you out of there soon,” Miles replied, and Julian let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

Once the door was open, he gave Miles a brief hug of thanks. Noticing the bottle of kanar in his hand, Miles quirked his eyebrow and began to open his mouth, when Julian stopped him, eyes tired.

“Don’t. I’ve had enough humiliation for one day.”

Miles respected his request and remained silent, waving him off on his journey.

He knew about Julian’s feelings for Garak, of course he did, and he tried to put his personal feelings about the Cardie aside for his sake. The lad was really infatuated with him. If he ever laid one finger on Julian, though, there would be hell to pay. Mildly worried about his friend, Miles packed up his tools and returned to Engineering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll stop embarrassing poor Julian soon.. maybe.


	4. Trade Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak lets Julian in on a.. heavily-guarded secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GARAK SAYS FUCK
> 
> (my writing quality is DETERIORATING at this point)

1930 hours, and one Elim Garak was pacing about his darkened quarters. It had been several hours since the incident in the Replimat, and he didn’t know just how much people had seen, how much people knew. He had been utterly humiliated in front of the dozens of people in that damned room, and more importantly, in front of Julian.

What would his dear doctor think, knowing that he had been taking lunch with a filthy  _ arrakl’th _ ? Like a mark branded permanently into his forehead, “I am a freak of nature whose only use to the State is to live a life in the shadows.” He laughed coldly at the thought that now he played absolutely no part, he had no role to make his life worth living. Cardassia had turned its back on him, and the thought buried him in deep sadness. He’d known his life of danger and violence would kill him one day, but he didn’t think it would be here - middle-aged, fat, and alone, with his only friend to abandon him as soon as he finds out.

His pacing slowed to a halt and he let out a choked sob, head in hands. It wasn’t often that Elim would cry - he was more the wallowing type - but Gods, he needed it right now.

It was then that the door chimed, and swiftly opened.

“Fuck!” he shouted, taken aback. (Another word he had become familiar with due to Julian’s insistence on introducing him to Federation Standard expletives- not that he had ever used one out loud before now.) Of course he had forgotten to lock the door.

In his normal state, he would have sensed his assailant’s footfalls long before they reached the door, and been waiting for it to open with a knife or a phaser. In his affected condition, however, it took him a couple of seconds to retrieve a small knife from his table and pin the trespasser against the wall by the door.

It took until the door slid shut and his eyes adjusted to the light again to realise that the man he had pinned was not in fact a thief or assassin, but Julian Bashir, eyes dilated and face flushed.

“Garak what the fuck?” he managed in between ragged breaths. “Is this how you treat all your house guests?”

“Only the ones who enter without permission, Doctor,” Garak replied smoothly, no trace of his misery from before.

The knife was still pressed into the skin of Julian’s throat, and he could smell the human’s fear; the sweat on his skin mixed in with his cologne. He looked beautiful like this, Garak thought.

“Are you going to let me down from here?” asked Julian, stuck in place by Garak’s stocky body like a deer in headlights. He relented, removed the knife and stepped away from the doctor, who was still regaining his breath after the ambush, but smiled weakly as he said:

“I brought kanar.”

-

After a couple of glasses of kanar, Julian was considerably more affected than Garak, whose age aided his tolerance, as well as his body being more used to the viscous drink.

“So I came here to say sorry, I don’t think I have yet.. Have I said sorry? I don’t remember.” Julian took another swig and grimaced at the taste. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry for whatever I did anyway. I didn’t mean to upset you, really I didn’t, Garak.”

Guls, Julian thought  _ he  _ was the one at fault?

“No, my dear, you have done nothing wrong. I was merely… not expecting such a crude accident with my clothing, so I thought it best to leave.”

Julian smiled at this and leaned drunkenly towards Garak on the sofa. “Good, I was so worried you were angry with me, but I promise nobody was looking. I like your tail, by the way, why do you hide it? It’s cute.”

At this, Garak froze, panicked, and desperately willed his brain to come up with a plausible excuse for the situation.

“No, Doctor, it is not a tail, merely a.. certain point in the process of shedding. You see, our scales go through different phases of growth, and this ‘tail’ you speak of is merely one of them.” In his head, he was punching himself.  _ He’s a doctor! How is that meant to be believable??  _ "You understand, however, that this is not a topic discussed with other species -- an internal issue that I would not have shared with you except to.. clear things up."

Julian, however, in his drunken haze, seemed to accept this as an explanation.

“Oh, okay.” And that was all that was said of it.

Julian wanted to stay to finish his drink, but Garak decided that he had had enough and sent him home using his PADD that he had used to hack into the public transporter system - only after many promises were made by Julian never to tell Sisko or Odo of this.

_ He’ll be too hungover in the morning to remember anyway,  _ he thought, smiling to himself as he remembered the feeling of a giggly Julian cuddling up against his side. Oh, to have that warmth beside him always, he would give a hundred - no, a thousand suns. 

The room now feeling empty and cold without his doctor, Elim sipped his kanar and slowly sank back into his melancholy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not well at all currently, I thought I was getting better but I got worse again. Sorry if updates are irregular, I have been sat in bed rewatching DS9 because that is all I have the energy to do :D


	5. Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Garak begins actively avoiding Julian, he wonders - as he often does - if his Cardassian friend was telling the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I write, the autocorrect keeps trying to change Jadzia to Jacuzzi and Garak to Garage. My computer is trying to make me write a crack fic.

Two days.

It had been two days since Julian had showed up to Garak’s place with a bottle of overpriced kanar and nearly been killed. He was now sat in Quark’s with Miles and Jadzia, both of whom were trying to cheer up a very dejected doctor.

“I just don’t understand why he hasn’t even messaged me on the PADD - let me know he’s alright - he’s been locked away in his quarters, hasn’t even opened the shop, even Odo is worried about him!” Jadzia patted Julian’s heaving shoulders as he sobbed.

“I don’t think he’s worried about Garak for the same reason you are, Julian,” Miles interjected, only to be met with a piercing glare from Jadzia. “Alright, sorry, we’re all worried about him too.”

“I just.. I just miss him so much, Miles,” he cried, leaning further into Jadzia. He lost his balance and his head promptly fell into her lap, where he just laid pathetically and cried harder.

“There, there, Julian,” Jadzia soothed, stroking his curly hair. “I’m sure Garak is okay, and he’ll be in touch with you soon.” Julian looked up at her with eyes bloodshot from crying.

“It’s been two fucking days, Jadzia, and he  _ missed our lunch!  _ He never does that to me, never!” All coherent speech had by this point descended into throaty sobs, and Jadzia felt his tears soaking through the fabric of her uniform trousers.  _ Oh, well, they can be washed. _

“How’s about..” Miles halted, reluctant, before continuing. “How’s about we go to his place, you and me, and see if he’s alright? Just to set your mind at rest.”

“You’d do that for me?” Julian asked, sniffling. Rom side-stepped towards the corner of the bar they were sitting in and handed Jadzia a tissue to give to Julian. She thanked him with a smile and gave Julian the tissue. He blew his nose and dabbed at his tear-stained eyes, before looking up at Miles.

“Thank you for the offer, Miles, but this is something I have to do myself. It’s between me and him.”

Given his emotional state, the nurses in the infirmary made him take the rest of the day off - he had been distracted and slow the past couple of days anyway, and wasn’t much help. They didn’t tell him that, though, only waved him out of the infirmary on his way to his quarters.

Once he returned, calmer from having had a good cry, he cleaned himself up and then sat and thought.

What was it that Garak had said that night? His memories were hazy and blurred.. 

_ Garak looked sad when I first went inside. Why was he sad? Was he lying, did I really do something wrong? Did he lie about everything, even the scales? _

The scales.

Julian ran towards his computer and immediately accessed all available files on Cardassian shedding habits. There wasn’t much in what Tain had given him when Garak was dying, but enough about the nature of Cardassian scales that he definitely knew Garak was not telling the whole truth.

They shed randomly, over time, not in full phases, to allow for maximum protection at all times and avoid vulnerable periods, Julian supposed. Also, the scales, while lodged deep in the skin, would not have been able to look like that without some structure underneath. He quickly ruled out optical illusion as a reason, too.

_ Of course he was lying, you dolt. You should have _ known.

He had wanted to believe Garak, to trust him, but he couldn’t.

That settled it - he was going to visit his Cardassian friend tonight and find out what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly done with this one - I'm not entirely happy with it but I'm giving myself some slack because I am /very/ out of practice. I've started a new story called Learning Curves, it's much more lighthearted and IMO much better - please check that one out if you're enjoying this one!


	6. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian pushes Garak too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today because I'm feeling generous!  
> This was going to be the final chapter but it was way too long so I've split it in half, sorry if the end of this one is a bit off.  
> In other news, I have discovered that someone on this godforsaken website wrote Weyoun/reader fics. What the fuck. I am disturbed and need therapy. Son's crying now, cheers.

Two nights after the first time, and Julian Bashir was standing outside Elim Garak’s quarters.

No alcohol was at hand, nor was the door unlocked. Tonight, the air inside the corridor hung heavy, broken only by the electronic chime of the door as Julian tentatively pressed the bell.

After a minute, the door slid open, and he was greeted by a very dishevelled looking Cardassian. His usually sleek hair was greasy and unwashed, his robe was dirty, and his eyes were sunken into his face as though the life had been sucked out of them.

“Ah, Doctor, what a pleasant surprise.” His voice was ragged and weary. “I regret to inform you that my quarters are not in a fit state to host you another night.”

“It’s been nearly three days, Garak. You missed our date… our, our lunch, you haven’t spoken to me in days. What’s wrong?”

Garak bristled. “I was unaware that I had to report to you - are you a prison officer? A childminder?”

Julian replied, “As Chief Medical Officer of this station, and as your friend, I would appreciate even a message to let me know that you’re doing alright! Is that so much to ask?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” 

He swiftly turned on the balls of his feet and turned away from the door. Julian ignored this and let himself in, catching sight of the back of the Cardassian, where the tail was either gone or concealed very well.

“Your..” he hesitated as Garak turned his head. “Your tail, where did it go?”

His tired voice turned ice cold in an instant. “I thought that conversation had ended. It is none of your business,” he snapped.

“I just want to know why you were so upset! I’ve never seen…”

“No, you’ve never seen, have you? Because Cardassia doesn’t want anyone to see the  _ tarnish on their armour _ .”

Julian’s eyes widened and he responded, “I don’t know if that last phrase translated properly, but you’re not a.. a tarnish. I don’t fully understand - I wish I did, Garak, I want to understand so I can help you-”

“I do not require your pity, Doctor!” The icy tones became harsher, cruel.

Julian allowed him space to speak his mind. For once, he knew when to shut up.

“Even if it wasn’t for this… deformity, I am obviously not in my prime-- how do you say it-- no youthful bird?”

The urge to correct him was most unhelpful.

“On Cardassia, even before my exile, I was a freak of nature, outcast by all except the Order. I had nobody.” 

Garak’s voice cracked slightly at this, and fucking hell, Julian was about to cry again.

“I wished only to serve my Empire, and yet the people who I would have befriended, worked with, created a community with - they saw me as a freak. As something to fear, to shield their children’s eyes from in the streets.” He took a halted breath. “And so I clung to it, to the mystery and the secrecy of it all, because it was all I had.”

Julian tried his best to put on his bedside face, the patient, caring smile that he gave to a child scared of a hypospray or an old, war-scarred Klingon on his deathbed. 

He couldn’t. 

HIs eyes welled up and he blinked the tears away, and Garak continued his story.

“Do you know what they called us?” he spat.

The translator struggled with the phrases, but Julian roughly heard “without value” and “riding hound fodder”, and could deduct from that what they meant. 

“We were lower than animals, lower than the sands of the desert. How could I ever have believed I was worthy of life?” 

He turned abruptly and lashed out, knocking over a vase of orange flowers, and Julian remembered a similar aggression during his withdrawal from the implant. The pain he must have gone through to lose the closest thing he had to a family not once, but twice.. He couldn’t bear the thought.

Julian snapped out of his thoughts to see Garak, eyes still raging, holding his own hand gingerly. He immediately went into doctor mode, and walked over to him to check for injuries. A large shard of glass was wedged into the palm of his hand, and Julian winced looking at it. Garak, seemingly embarrassed by his outburst, tried to slap Julian’s hand away with his injured one and yelped as the glass drove deeper into his hand. Dark brown blood began to ooze from the wound, and Julian rushed to find the emergency med kit in Garak’s quarters before returning to the injured man.

“It’s going to be okay, I won’t hurt you,” Julian said as soothingly as was possible in the rather tense environment. Garak would not look at him, his eyes turned to the floor where the flowers lay strewn amongst bottle-green glass that sparkled dully in the reduced light of the tailor’s otherwise-neat quarters.

After removing the shard as carefully as possible, drawing a harsh intake of breath from Garak, Julian disinfected the wound and gently ran the dermal regenerator over the broken skin until only a dark lavender bruise remained.

_ He still won’t look at me. _

“Do you want to keep talking about this? Maybe start at the beginning, so I can understand what’s wrong?” Julian suggested, earning a spiteful side-eye from Garak.

“If I’d known you were here to psychoanalyse me, I would never have let you in in the first place.” He spoke the words disgustedly, like drops of poison spreading on his tongue.

He didn’t shake Julian’s hand away, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not have high hopes for this story and the quality of writing has slowly deteriorated throughout. The ending is going to be very corny. I apologise in advance.


	7. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some uncomfortable truths come out. Julian cries a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write a heartfelt conversation between these two is... hard. Trying to write Garak telling the truth is even harder. Well, we don't know if it is the truth, and it definitely isn't the whole truth, but it was still difficult to write. I think I'm better off writing less depressing shit because it always turns out really corny with me.
> 
> Also, Garak has a Roomba.

Julian gently guided Garak to sit down, and found the vacubot in a cupboard. He picked up the flowers and set them on the table, before setting off the vacuum to quietly pick up any microscopic shards of glass that may have broken off.

“This isn’t about me, though, is it? This is about you. Now, you are obviously in great distress about something, and I really want to help you, Garak, I do, but I can’t unless you let me.” Julian sat on the same couch as two nights ago, but there was no warmth. The stale air smelt of unwashed clothes and alcohol, and the man sat next to him was completely devoid of light.

It took a while, but Garak began talking.

“In the time of the First Hebitian civilisation, having… being like me… was normal. It was a vestigial trait of their reptilian ancestors that aided in balance. As generations passed, the appendage grew shorter and more useless, to a point where it was merely an inconvenience. About half of their children were born with them at this point, and they began to breed them out.” Garak halted, considering the steps he had taken to get to the point where he was actually talking about this. Days ago, he would never have even considered being so transparent with him.

_ This is Julian. Julian cares, even if only a little. _

“The vestigial organ was seen as a blight upon the more warlike features of the Cardassian race. By the time I was born, it was an extreme minority of Cardassian children born with them, and they were…” He hid a shudder. “…often forcibly removed by medical practitioners. The surgery is dangerous and anaesthesia is not possible.” 

Julian audibly gasped at this. “My God, Garak, that’s inhuman!”

“We are not human,” Garak replied coldly. “And that was just the lucky ones, children born into prestigious families who could not afford the scandal of abandoning one’s own child.”

“Abandoning?” Julian seemed confused. “But you.. Tolan..”

“Was not my biological father, no, but he took me in and loved me as any other.” He thought of Tolan, their home, his beloved flowers, and how during the time that he spent on Romulus posing as a gardener, all he could think of was the man he loved as a father. And then he thought of Tain - cold, unforgiving, patronising, unreachable - and felt grateful that he was raised mostly by his uncle and not by his father. He looked to his side and saw Julian, trusting, caring,

“Tain.. even the Order before him, they would take in the children left to die in the streets. They trained them as operatives - the perfect criminals, no family or loved ones, nothing to lose. Many of us had… a similar condition. And so they became associated with the Order, and the stigma grew. It no longer simply denoted a birth defect, but an inherent connection with the underworld. Child abandonment increased drastically - the surgery rate dropped, as the scars were unsightly and any family raising a deformed child would be shunned from their community. There was no escaping it, you joined the Order or you died. Often both.”

Garak’s explanation was interrupted - again - this time, by a sudden and tight hug from Julian. It was awkward, the angle was wrong, and Julian’s wet face was pressed rather uncomfortably into his neck ridge, but he sat there and hugged him back. How long had it been since he had allowed himself this closeness, this affection? 

_ Far too long. _

“We had to find a way to conceal our differences, so as to do our job well,” Garak continued, speaking softer now. “I picked up tailoring on the job, and discovered a way to hide it without any extreme discomfort.”

Julian’s mind was racing a thousand words a second, trying to piece together Garak’s story. He was fairly sure that this was the truth, or as close to the truth as he would get. He was distracted, however, by the fact that he was still clinging onto Garak like one of those little velcro toy monkeys that children of old would win at fun fairs. He didn’t let go.

“The time I spent in the Obsidian Order was rewarding, yes, but only because until recently I felt that was the only purpose of my life. There was nothing else except serving the Order. But now.. Now I have nothing. I will wither and die on this miserable station, cold and alone.” He was speaking to himself more than anything at this point, performing some pathetic soliloquy not unlike those in Julian’s awful Shakespeare plays.

_ Julian. _

Julian had lifted his head from Garak’s neck, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I love you.”

He was taken aback a little by the boldness of his own words, and it seemed Garak was too.

“Doctor, I..”

“No, Garak! I've been absolutely humiliated for days on end just trying to set things right with you. I've tried to make you see how I feel for so long but you've been stuck in this pit of self-loathing for far too long, since before I took the implant out, before everything. And I don't care."

Garak was about to cry too, by the looks of it.

"Well- of course I care in some ways because I want you to be happy and to lead as normal and fulfilling a life as you can, even though you're separated from your people, but you can't possibly expect me to share your opinion, can you?  _ I love you. _ I don’t believe any of those awful things you said about yourself. I love the time I spend with you, I love your intellect and insight, I love your tail and _everything_ about you. Everything that makes you different is everything I love you for.

“You make my life more complete with every day I spend with you. Every dreadful book, every silly argument, every lunch break, my life would be dull without you.” He caught his breath. “So don’t you dare ever say that you have nothing, that you’re alone, because I know I can be a bumbling fool sometimes and  _ incredibly _ insensitive, but for as long as I am alive and forever after that you will be loved by me. I fucking love you, Elim Garak.”

It took Garak a moment to process what Julian had just said, by which point Julian was stumbling to find words to apologise.

“I’m so sorry- I’ve gone and made this all about me, haven’t I- God, I am a complete idiot, I’d better leave-”

Before Julian could unlatch himself from Garak, he found himself being squeezed tighter, held close like some beloved treasure.  _ Fuck, I’m going to start crying again, aren’t I? _

“Doctor… Julian..” 

And Julian’s heart swelled at being called by his first name.

Garak gently lifted Julian’s head from his chest to look at him.

_ Even after all those tears, he is still so beautiful. _

“Everything I do in life is for you. You saved me, you are the one who I live for.” The translation from Kardasi didn't quite hold the same meaning, but that confirmation was all Julian needed to bring their lips together.

The kiss that followed was not perfect. It was not how Julian had dreamt it - on a messy sofa, faces salty with tears, mouths dry from talking, but it was theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good at writing shit like this. Or epilogues as a matter of fact, so there isn't gonna be one. Let's pretend I wrote one and Garak goes to therapy and they go into Quark's and Garak threatens to beat him up for embarrassing his space boyfriend. If I have to edit or even look at this story ever again I shall go mad.  
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I've been part of the DS9 community on AO3 for a while now, but I've never actually published anything on here. I was majorly inspired by various artworks of Garak with a tail, and decided to write some lore of my own towards it.
> 
> I haven't written fiction in well over a year, and this has not been beta'd, so constructive criticism and suggestions are highly appreciated!


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